


A Life Shared

by waveryder



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Heart Surgeon!Ray, M/M, Multiverse, Shared Dream, SteelAtom Week, SteelAtom Week 2017, Time Is Fake, Yoga Instructor!Nate, just a jumbled mess, new timeline, shared reality, they're domestic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11197119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveryder/pseuds/waveryder
Summary: Ray wakes up with a splitting headache, a dry mouth, and the morning sun shining way to brightly in his face. Oh, and his alarm is screaming at him.---The new timeline is welcoming, but Ray feels lost. Is this real? He has to keep telling himself it is.





	A Life Shared

**Author's Note:**

> Steelatom Week Day 2: Multiverse
> 
> \--
> 
> This is actually based on the new timeline that could've been, wherein Nate is a yoga instructor and Ray is a heart surgeon. That falls under multiverse, right?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Ray wakes up with a splitting headache, a dry mouth, and the morning sun shining way to brightly in his face. Oh, and his alarm is screaming at him. He reaches a hand out, searching for his phone so he can stop the the damn ringing. He manages to open his eyes, slowly, shielding them from the light flooding the room through his window.  

 

He takes in his surrounding and something feels off. His eyes scan the room, and everything _looks_ normal. _He thinks_. He looks down at his California King sized mattress, smoothing his hands over the cool bed sheets. The spot next to him is disturbed, and that shouldn’t be a disorienting as it feels.

 

He tosses the covers off his body and swings his legs over the side of the mattress. He sits there for a moment, willing the pounding in his head to dissipate. No such luck, so he walks into the en-suit.

 

Splashing cold water on his face seems to quell the heat in his head and throbbing behind his eyes. The double amount of everything, double sinks, the two toothbrushes, the two robes hanging on the bathroom door, it all feels familiar, but there is a slight unsettling feeling in the back of his head. He walks back out into the room, looking around once more. He knows where everything is, but it’s still _off_.

 

He shakes his head, and wanders out into the hall. There are photos on the wall, and he knows who these people are. He can even formulate memories, but every face tells two stories. Making it down the stairs and through the living room, he hears movement coming from the kitchen. He tenses for a split second before remembering he doesn’t live alone. Of course he doesn’t.

 

Walking into the kitchen, Ray is greeted with the sight of a man bent over filling the dishwasher.

 

“Nate?” Ray says without thinking. His brain does a double take. Yes, Nate. That’s right.

 

The man - _Nate_ \- stands up straight and spins around, and smiles at Ray. He’s wearing a pair of soft gray sweats, cuffed at the ankle, and the text ‘Spiritual Gangster’ etch on the hip. He’s got a tank top on with a picture of a Llama that says ‘Llama’ste’ underneath. He’s also padding around the kitchen barefoot, and Ray can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at how charming it all is.

 

“Hey, sleepy,” Nate says, coming up to Ray. He rests his forearms over Ray’s shoulder and leans in to kiss him. Ray kisses back, on instinct, sliding his arms around Nate’s waist, hugging him close. Nate makes a small surprised noise in the back of his throat, and pulls back.

 

“It that a stethoscope in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Nate purrs.

 

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Ray says, blushing slightly. He shifts, feeling stiff between his legs.

 

“You’re right,” Nate chuckles, walking away from Ray and back to the dishwasher. “It definitely felt _bigger_ than a stethoscope.”

 

“Damn right,” Ray says, walking over to the coffee maker.

 

Everything starts to click into place, the domesticity settling in, and Ray fixes himself a mug of coffee. He’s a bit dazed, but chalks it up to waking up to a construction site within his head.

 

“So, I have class until two,” Nate says, kicking shut the dishwasher drawer, “but as soon I get home, we can start your vacation.” He bites his bottom lip and wiggles his eyebrows at Ray.

 

“Class?” Ray asks, glossing over the suggestive nature of Nate’s statement.

 

“Yeah, remember?” Nate asks. “Janie is on her honeymoon, and I promised I’d pick up her classes. It’s only two extra days.” Nate shrugs and walks over to Ray, stealing his mug and taking a sip. He grimaces.

 

“You want some coffee with that creamer?” Nate teases, placing the mug down in front of Ray.

 

Ray is looking at him, slightly dumbfounded.

 

“You okay?” Nate asks, noticing the look on Ray’s face. “You seem a bit out of it this morning.”

 

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” Ray says, fiddling with the mug. “I just woke up with a horrible headache.”

 

Nate makes a sympathetic noise and presses a kiss to the top of Ray’s head.

 

“I’m sorry, babe,” he says. “Not a great start to your vacay, but at least you can go back to bed.”

 

Ray smiles at his boyfriend. _Boyfriend?_ Yes, that’s right. He watches Nate putter around the kitchen some more, cleaning up the remains of his own breakfast. Ray’s a bit enchanted by how fluid Nate’s movements are, how he seems to glide across the linoleum floor. He spins around to grab a dish rag, dancing over to the sink to drop it in. It’s adorable and Ray feels a tug in his chest. It feels like _longing_.

 

“Ok, I gotta get going,” Nate says, looking at the at the clock on the oven.

 

He wanders out of the kitchen, and Ray can’t help but stare at his ass as he walks away. Ray quickly shakes his head, regretting the movement instantly as his head starts to throb.

 

All of the sudden, there’s a flash of light behind his eyes, and images start to materialize. _Memories_. But of what? Metal doors, a burning man, a suit made to shrink. Ray’s head is pounding as he clutches it with his hands.

 

There’s a muffled voice, calling out to him.

 

“Ray!” Nate says, grabbing Ray’s wrists. “Hey, what wrong?” he sounds panicked. Why wouldn’t he be. Walking on on your boyfriend in excruciating pain can’t be a pleasant sight.

 

The images stop and he can open his eyes, but everything in blurry, too bright and soft at the edges.

 

“S-Sorry, I just…” Ray breathes in and out through his nose. “I just need a minute.”

 

“I don’t think I should go to class,” Nate says, rubbing his thumbs over Ray’s wrists soothingly. “If your headache is this bad, I should stay home.”  

 

“No, I’m fine, I’ll just take some painkillers,” Ray says, blinking to clear the haze.

 

He sees the worried look on Nate’s face and notes the yoga mat slung over his shoulder.

 

“Yoga class,” Ray mutters. He doesn’t know why that sounds like new information.

 

“You’re kinda scaring me, hon,” Nate says. He brings his hands to Ray’s face, holding it. He studies Ray’s eyes, searching for any other signs of distress.

 

Ray leans into Nate’s touch, his hands feeling cool against his cheeks.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Ray says. “Go to class.”

 

Nate reluctantly let’s go of Ray’s face, chewing on his bottom lip. Ray leans forward and presses a kiss to Nate’s lips.

 

“You’ll call me if it gets worse?” Nate says parting from the kiss. “I’ll drop everything and race right over.”

 

Ray smiles and nods. Nate kisses his forehead and picks up his workout bag.

 

“I mean it, call me,” Nate says. “Love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” Ray pauses, feeling the words slip off his tongue. They don’t feel foreign, not exactly, but it feel like this is the first time he’s saying them.

 

Nate points two fingers to his eyes, and then points them at Ray, as he walks backwards out of the kitchen. Ray shakes his head and chuckles, but Nate just blows him a kiss and strolls out the door.

 

Ray takes a couple deep breaths, before he decides to get up. He dumps his coffee down the drain, not having the stomach for it anymore, and rinses the cup. He grips the counter and stares out of the window above the sink, looking out at the spacious yard.

 

Ray squints at the perfectly manicured lawn, picturesque and neat. He turns and looks around his home - _their_ home. It’s perfect, almost too perfect. Ray wanders through the house, cataloguing every detail, as if he doesn’t remember buying it with Nate a couple years prior. But he does remember. He remembers looking for the right neighborhood, close enough to work, and still within a good a school district. Because that’s what he and Nate talked about, right? They talked about having a life together. Making this house a home. Starting a family someday.

 

He remembers, but the pain in his head, the images in his mind, _knock knock knocking_. It’s trying to make him forget. Or remember a life that is entirely different.

 

He takes another deep breath, and wanders back to bed. He takes a couple of painkillers, and waits for sleep to catch up to him, unsure if he should be afraid of waking up in another world, or relieved to be out of this one.

 

-

 

_Ray’s carrying Nate through steel doors, bright lights blaring around them. Ray is speaking, it’s his voice he hears, but he can’t make out any words._

 

_Nate is on a chair, hooked up to God knows what._

 

 _He’s been shot in the stomach. He’s_ bleeding _. He’s_ dying _. Ray doesn’t do anything. He_ can’t _. Why can’t Ray help him. Why can’t he_ save _him?_

 

_“Ray,” this Nate says, looking up at him with pleading eyes._

 

_Ray is speaking, but he can’t hear any words._

 

_“Ray,” this Nate says again._

 

 _Ray just stares, because he can’t do anything. He’s_ powerless _._

 

_Ray!_

 

Ray jolts awake, Nate shaking him. His arm shoots out to grab Nate, pulling him down.

 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Nate says, fumbling to hold Ray properly. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.”

 

Ray can feel himself shaking, gulping in breath after breath. He can also feel Nate’s hand in his hair, can feel Nate’s heart beat against his face, can feel _Nate_ , solid, and warm, and _alive_.

 

“ _Nate_ ,” Ray gasps, and Nate crawls into bed, repositioning them.

 

“I got you,” Nate says, tugging Ray close, holding his boyfriend’s head to his chest. He makes quiet hushing noises, as Ray clings to him.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” Nate asks after a few more minutes of silence.

 

Ray doesn’t say anything at first. Does he want to tell Nate how wrong everything feels? How his nightmare felt _so real_? Like a not-so-distant memory?

 

Ray shakes his head, cheek rustling the fabric of Nate’s top. He smells like fresh soap and mint, mixed with a scent that is simply him. Nate’s fingers are still carding through his hair, and his hold is grounding.

 

“So much for starting your vacation with a _bang_ ,” Nate says, hoping his joke lightens the mood.

 

It actually pulls a laugh from Ray, watery and weak, but it’s there. Ray is grateful for it. He looks up at Nate, and pushes himself up to kiss him. This is real. Ray refuses to believe otherwise. Their lives, their home, their _love_. It’s all real.

 

“Why don’t I make lunch?” Nate says, resting his forehead against Ray’s. “You hungry?”

 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Ray whispers.

 

Nate kisses Ray’s forehead, and gets up and out of bed. Ray lets him go, laying there for a little while longer. The throbbing behind his eyes is subtly, nothing but a light thrumming, but when he closes his eyes those images are still there. A woman in white, fire and ice, wings, and beasts.

 

Ray pulls himself together, as much as he can, and joins Nate in the kitchen.

 

-

 

“How’s your head?” Nate asks.

 

It’s late, and they’re on the sofa, Nate tucked into Ray’s side. Ray has his arm around Nate’s shoulders and his hand is sliding up and down Nate’s bicep. It’s comfortable, just them, cuddled together, watching a movie.

 

“Better now,” Ray says. It’s not a lie. This morning, the hammering in his skull was damn near unbearable. Now, it’s just a soft buzzing between his ears.

 

Lunch went well, Ray didn’t have anymore flashback - or whatever they are - and they were able to eat in peace. Nate was busy telling Ray about his day at the studio, as Ray ate and listened. There was a split second of realization, as if Ray had no idea that Nate was a yoga instructor, but he did know. Of course he did.

 

The rest of the day went by without incident. Ray showered and dressed in lounging clothes, instead of PJs. He and Nate spent a quiet day in, opting out of the _extracurricular_ activities Nate had suggested in the morning.

 

But now, sitting here with Nate, the body next to him feeling soft and pliable, Ray feels a stirring in his belly. The same stirring he felt this morning. He remembers the remark made by Nate, the stiff feeling in his pants, and he shifts on the sofa slightly.

 

Ray moves his hand up Nate’s arm, to his neck, and into his hair, massaging and tugging. Nate groans at the contact, and lifts his head to press kisses to Ray’s throat, open mouthed and wet. Ray cranes his neck, allowing Nate more room to kiss and suck and lick.

 

Nate moves from Ray’s side, climbing onto his lap instead, straddling him. Ray grabs hold of Nate’s hips, fingers digging into his flesh, as Nate presses their lips together. The kiss is needy and desperate, a clash of tongues and teeth, and hands start to pull and grab. Nate grips Ray’s shoulders and he bucks forward, grinding against Ray. Ray moans into the kiss, and his hands slide down to grab Nate’s ass, tugging him closer.

 

They kiss and rock together, before Ray grows impatient. He holds Nate by the waist, and flips them so Nate is on his back on the sofa with Ray on top of him, between his legs. Nate wastes no time pulling Ray back down for another kiss, and manages to wrap his legs around Ray, moving so their groins brush against each other.

 

“Fuck, _Nate_ ,” Ray breathes, moving his mouth to Nate’s neck.

 

“That’s - that’s the idea,” Nate huffs, threading his fingers through Ray’s hair.

 

He can feel Ray’s teeth graze his skin, as he sucks, and bites, and _marks_ . Every nip sending a message: _This is mine. No one can take it from me_. To whom? Ray isn’t sure, but he hopes the message is loud and clear.

 

“ _God_ , Ray,” Nate gasps, rocking into Ray. “Are you gonna fuck me, or -”

 

Ray feels a spark of something primal ignite inside him, the sound of Nate’s voice, rough and needy, making heat curl between his legs.

 

“I think we should move this to the bedroom,” Ray says in a hushed voice.

 

Nate nods and drags them upstairs to their bedroom, where hands peel off layers, and grab at naked flesh. They fall together onto the mattress, tangle and twist around each other, rock and move into one another.

 

Nate moves much like he did this morning, movements smooth and fluid, as his hands roam all over Ray’s body, worshipping.

 

Ray looks up at Nate, feels him move inside him, thrusting deep and hard, and, _fuck_ , he’s beautiful. He’s looking at Ray with such adoration, it almost makes Ray choke. He pulls Nate down for a kiss, wraps his legs around him, guiding Nate deeper.

 

“I love you,” Nate says, slowing his thrusts, pulling out just enough and then pushing back in, hard. He does it again, and again, _and again_.

 

Ray makes small choked noises with every thrust, a staccato rhythm of grunts and gasps.

 

“ _God_ , I love you,” Ray huffs, feeling Nate hit his prostate over and over.

 

They grind, and writhe, getting lost in each other, until they’re both crying out in release. They kiss, in post orgasm bliss, soft and gentle. Nate rolls off of Ray and tucks himself into Ray’s side, pulling the man’s arm around his shoulder, so he can rest against Ray’s chest.

 

“Now _that’s_ how you kick off a vacation,” Nate sighs, pecking kisses to Ray’s chest.

 

Ray chuckles, caressing Nate’s shoulder. He kisses the top of Nate’s head and pulls the covers over their cooling bodies.

 

 _This is real_ , is the last thought Ray has before he drifts off to sleep.

 

-

 

The next couple of days go a lot smoother. Ray’s headache is gone, he can relax, and Nate spends his time reminding Ray just how bendy he is. In the shower, on the sofa, on the island in the kitchen. It’s a good couple of days.

 

Ray is finally slipping back into domestic bliss with Nate, even finding himself looking forward to going back to work. He needs the normalcy, the routine, a reminder of his life here, after feeling disoriented and lost. He almost forgets how wrong everything felt just a few days prior.

 

Almost.

 

It’s the weekend before Ray is due back at the hospital, and he’s milking every minute out of it. He’s sitting on the deck in their back yard, watching Nate mow the lawn, _shirtless_ , God bless him. His eyes are trained on Nate’s toned arms, and travel across his body, taking in taut abs, and tanned flesh. Nate’s wearing a pair of loose fitting sweats that hang low on his hips, and Ray just drinks it in.

 

He closes his eyes, and suddenly he sees a woman. It’s the woman in white, and she’s calling his name. His eyes snap open and Nate is gone. Ray looks around, and everything is quiet. Too quiet. No birds chirping, or dogs barking, not even the sound of wind rustling leaves.

 

Panic sets in and Ray rushes inside.

 

“Nate,” he calls out, but no one answers. “Nate, where are you?” he tries again, but still nothing.

 

He makes it to the living room before there’s a loud ringing in his ears and the pain is back. It’s worse this time, a sharp jolt up the back of his head, and a beating at his temples. He doubles over and groans. He expects Nate to come to him, pull him from the pain, hold him and tell him he’s okay, that he’s safe. But he never comes, and the last thing Ray hears is the woman calling his name, and then nothing but darkness.

 

-

 

Ray is gasping for breath, as blinding light sears his vision. He shoots straight up, clutching his chest, sputtering. He looks around wildly, taking in his surroundings. He’s in his quarters. He’s on the Waverider.

 

He gets his breathing under control, and that when he hears it.

 

“Ray, hey.” It’s Sara, speaking through his closed door. “Come on, meeting on the bridge, let’s go.”

 

Ray is clutching at the thin sheet laid across his lap, sweat making his tank top cling to his torso. He wracks his mind, trying to make sense of what just happened. _It was all a dream_ , he thinks, the weight of everything crash down on him. He always imagined his real life dream sequence would leave him feeling fulfilled and with insight. All he feels is hollow, and cold, like he’s suddenly missing a piece of himself.

 

He gathers himself up, throws on some decent clothes, and heads to the bridge.

 

Everyone is there, standing around, looking morose.

 

 _Rip_ . Right, the Legion of Doom have him. _Oh_ . Everything comes flooding back to Ray. George Lucas, losing his memories, losing his entire self. _Nate_.

 

He glances over at the historian, and their eyes meet. Nate snaps his attention back to Sara, chewing on his thumbnail, but Ray keeps his eyes on the man for a few seconds longer, noticing how Nate’s gaze flickers towards Ray every so often. Ray feels a tug on his heart, and the memories, _the dream_ , plays in his mind.

 

“So, now that we have our historian and our inventor back,” Sara says, looking pointedly and Ray and Nate, “we can start to formulate a plan on how to get Rip back.”

 

Ray can’t focus, because he realizes that it had to be real. The new timeline, where he wasn’t an inventor with four PhDs, and Nate wasn’t a historian who could turn to steel. That life, it had to be real.

 

Sara, Jax, and Amaya strategize, with Stein chiming in every now and then. Mick happily watches the team from the sidelines, and Nate - Nate is nowhere to be found. Ray glances over at the group surrounding the center console, and once he’s sure they won’t miss him, he slinks off to look for Nate. He heads to the other man’s quarters first, sure to find him there.

 

He reaches Nate’s room, the door wide open, letting Ray get a look inside.

 

Nate is sitting on his bed, with his head in his hands, unaware of Ray standing, watching.

 

“Are you okay?” Ray asks, and Nate startles, practically jumping a foot in the air. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

“You - you didn’t,” he says, clearing his throat. He’s avoiding Ray’s eyes, and it makes something heavy settle in Ray’s stomach. “I just… needed some time to think.”

 

Ray thinks he gets the hint. “Oh, right, okay. I’ll just…” He turns to leave, but Nate calls out to him.

 

“Wait, Ray,” he says, getting up from his bed.

 

Ray just stands at the doorway, with Nate a few feet from him. The air is tense, and Ray doesn’t know how to cut it. Doesn’t think he can.

 

“George Lucas is back where he belongs,” Ray says, filling the awkward silence. “The timeline is restored.”

 

“Yeah,” Nate says, nodding. “Everything’s back to normal.”

 

More tense silence. It’s suffocating, and Ray’s mind just takes him back to that morning, to Nate looking at him with so much love in his eyes, to that night, when he and Nate soaked each other in. To the kisses and soft touches. To the domestic bliss Ray hadn’t felt in so long, didn’t think he could ever feel again.

 

Nate looks cagey, like he wants to jump out of his own skin. He’s been avoiding Ray’s gaze, and looks just as lost as Ray feels. Which is why Ray opens his mouth.

 

“Were you there?” Ray asks, softly, loud enough for just the two of them.

 

Nate’s eyes finally land on Ray’s, wide and questioning. He opens and closes his mouth, gaping like a fish, unable to form words, so Ray goes on.

 

“Were you in that house, too?” he asks. “Did you - did _we_ …”

 

“The nightmare, the headaches,” Nate says, his voice shaking, “you were having flashbacks weren’t you?”

 

Ray pales, unsure of how to feel. Nate was _there_ . They were there, _together_ . How that works, Ray will probably never understand. But it was real, in some version of a different timeline. _They_ were real.

 

“What about you?” Ray asks. “You seemed so… natural.”

 

It’s the only word Ray can think to describe it. Nate had seemed as though he had been there his whole life. Maybe, according to the new timeline, he had.

 

“I was having the same flashbacks, but I didn’t get the headaches,” Nate says. “It was just images, flashes of the Waverider, the team. It was disorienting, but that life…” he pauses, taking a deep breath, looking right at Ray.

 

“That life felt more real than those memories ever could.” The weight of the words hit Ray, _hard_. “I just brushed them aside. I - that version of me - was just so happy. It was probably only a few days, but it felt like a lifetime.”

 

Ray swallows, eyes wide as he and Nate just _gaze_ at each other.

 

A blush creeps up on Nate’s face all of the sudden, and he glances away.

 

“We, uh, we…” he stutters, and Ray knows.

 

“Yeah,” he replies. “We did.”

 

Ray moves forward, closing the distance between them, not knowing where the new found confidence comes from. Perhaps knowing that Nate felt at home in that life, that maybe he could love Ray now, like he loved him then, pushes him to react.

 

He realizes that Nate is meeting him halfway, and before either of them know it, they’re in each other's’ arms, lips connected. Ray’s hand finds its way into Nate’s hair, and Nate is pulling Ray closer by his hips. The kiss is chaste, a simple press of lips, as if they hadn’t fucked on every available surface of their suburban home.

 

They part, Nate looking at Ray with soft eyes, and Ray can’t help but smiles at him. It’s the same look Nate gave him their entire time together, the same look that made Ray warm all over.

 

“What does this mean?” Nate asks. “For us? I mean, we can’t have _that_.”

 

“No,” Ray replies, “but maybe we can have the next best thing. If you want to, that is, with me.”

 

Nate’s face breaks out into a grin, and he nods.

 

“Yeah, I want to,” Nate says, leaning in to kiss Ray once more.

 

It’s less chaste this time, but still soft and sweet.

 

Ray interrupts the kiss by laughing against Nate’s lips.

 

“What?” Nate asks, pulling back.

 

“You were a yoga instructor,” Ray says, grinning.

 

“Yeah, a damn good one,” Nate says. “I’ll never be that flexible again.”

 

“What a shame,” Ray sighs. “Would’ve been nice putting those moves to the test around here.”

 

Nate gapes at Ray, but he ends up laughing, the sound light and casual. It’s music to Ray’s ears.

 

“I don’t think Sara, or anyone else for that matter, would appreciate us sullying various parts of the ship,” Nate says.

 

Ray chuckles, and presses his lips to Nate’s forehead. Nate leans into it, soaking up the affectionate gesture.

 

“We’ll figure this out,” Ray says against Nate’s skin.

 

Nate nods, grabs Ray’s hand and laces their fingers together.

 

The timeline was restored, but nothing was reset. Ray and Nate may have been planted in a new life together, but they made it out together as well.

 

Ray looks into the historian’s eyes, remembering a life they never had, and realizes that home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling, it’s a person.

 

It’s Nate.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> fine me @ [bottomraypalmer](http://bottomraypalmer.tumblr.com/)


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